Marian's POV
The night pressed heavy against my skin, the city sprawled beneath the balcony—quiet, for once. No gunshots. No blood. No whispers of betrayal curling beneath the surface.
It was done.
The accounts were back under my name. Every dollar Bianchi stole. Every drop of blood the Callahans tried to wring from the Knights.
I'd burned their empire from the inside out, just like I promised I would.
And yet...
I couldn't feel it.
Couldn't taste the victory.
All I could feel was the hollow ache in my chest—like I'd been holding my breath for so long, I didn't know how to let it out.
The whiskey in my glass burned down my throat, but it didn't cut deep enough.
Nothing ever did.
"You won, princess."
Aiden's voice slid through the dark, low and lazy. Like he hadn't spent the past seventy-two hours breaking ribs and shattering kneecaps to track down every last dollar they took from me.
I didn't turn around.
"I don't feel like I won."
